


Break him

by onlyherefortheslash



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Obviously), (just a tiny bit), Age Difference, Age Swap, Alternate Universe, Angst?, Belly Bulging, Belly Kink, Bottom Dean, Breathplay, Come Eating, Coming Untouched, Crying, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Incest, Kinda, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Painful Sex, Porn With Plot, Pushy Bottoms, Pushy Dean, Reluctant Sam, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Somehow?, Submissive Sam, Top Sam, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-02-24 17:50:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2590694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyherefortheslash/pseuds/onlyherefortheslash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Non-hunting AU: After the death of Sam and Dean's parents, the latter is brought up by Sam and Jess. Years later, she leaves them and Dean decides, after a few months, to completely change their relationship's dynamic. Sam tries to resist, but Dean can be very persistent. Sex ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hellhoundsprey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellhoundsprey/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, sorry for the summary, I think it sounds really melodramatic when the story isn't (well, that's what I think). Second of all, this fic is in honor of my dear friend, [hellhoundsprey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hellhoundsprey/pseuds/hellhoundsprey)! (that you can find on [tumblr](http://hellhoundsprey.tumblr.com) btw, great art guys).
> 
> We have written two different fic based on the same "idea", that can be found in the summary of her own [fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2795456)!
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, read the tags well, NON-BETA'D sorry for the many many mistakes (don't hesitate to correct me)!
> 
> Sam is 36 and Dean is 16. (In case, y'know).

Dean was watching TV while Sam cleaned the kitchen. They barely talked now that Jess had left, and Dean didn’t know what to do toward his brother’s silence which felt like a quiet accusation. Rationally, he knew that Sam didn’t hold him responsible for anything that had happened between him and Jess, her departure or her shouting even before that, years before that. He had been too young back then to understand the real issues, but at thirteen, Dean got it, at least the bigger picture.

He had not been one year old when their parents died, had ended up with Sam and Jess as surrogate parents, and they had done a fine job at bringing him up. Well, mostly.

Dean was changing channels, trying to find something that could ease up his mind of all the tension that was now a natural atmosphere at home. Finding nothing, he settled on a animal documentary, still listened to Sam, hoping to hear something other than a tired sigh.

He was fucked up in his head, and so was Sam, they both knew it, and Jess had known it. Everyone, the teachers, other parents, classmates and family friends, everyone had noticed their close relationship, but had never thought anything of it; explained it by the fact that they were the only “real” family they had, and that it was normal to be so close to each other after such a tragic accident. Well, there was nothing normal about being sexually attracted to your big brother, and somehow father. And Dean, still watching the turtles hurriedly laying their eggs in the sand, lain himself on the couch, and thought about those brief moment when had caught Sam staring at him too intently. They were both fucked up, and that’s why Jess was gone now.

Sam was drinking his evening-tea, still in the kitchen, isolating himself from Dean. He tightened his fists and sat back up.

“Hey Sam!” he called “Let’s watch ‘How to train your dragon’, there’s nothing on the TV.” He heard the chair rattling on the floor, heavy steps coming his way, finally, and stopping just behind him. He felt Sam’s hand just above his head, but it never petted his hair as he had expected.

“It’s kinda late Dean, you should get yourself ready for school”. Dean turned then, and looked at his brother. The sight broke his heart. Sam was exhausted, deep bags under his eyes, cheeks hollowed out, the light gone from his pupils. Even his dimples had almost disappeared. Dean remembered how he used to comfort Sam after a fight when he was younger. He reached for his brother’s hand and saw him shiver.

“C’mon Sammy, can’t we just...” Dean sighed. “Just like before, huh?” He knew his voice was trembling, vulnerable, childish, but what could he do? Sam was only the shadow of himself, and five months after Jess’s departure had done nothing to help him get over their break up.

Sam took a deep breath, “’kay kiddo” and stiffly sat down next to Dean. Sam played with the remote, went to the settings and pressed ‘play’. The intro hadn’t even started yet, that Dean lain his head on Sam’s laps, just like he used to. Sam almost jumped at that.

“Come on Dean, you’re too-”

Dean shifted, hid his face in his brother’s legs, whispered, almost begging, “Sammy, please....” and Sam deflated. “’kay”. It sounded so sad, empty, Dean felt guilty for asking Sam, but what could he do? He was so alone, so deprived, he’d take just a little bit of affection, any kind of affection his brother was willing to give up, even if it wasn’t what Dean dreamed of at night. Sam’s hand settle on his hair, fingers shyly running down on his shoulder and going back up again, just like he had done not so long ago. Without Jess around, their limits got blurred.

None of them were paying attention to the movie, Sam too tensed to really enjoy anything and Dean too ashamed to let himself appreciate this henceforth rare time of physical closeness. He fell asleep anyway.

* * *

 

He woke up in his room at 7 am sharp, still clothed. Sam hadn’t even dared to change him before putting him in bed, and Dean didn’t know if satisfaction or remorse flood through him over this realization. Sam didn’t have the force to resist Dean. Whatever he said, only a look from Dean was enough to make his resolve dissolve, to make him give up, to make him do what Dean wished. Well, almost. He got out of bed and headed to the shower.

He undressed himself in front of the mirror and stared at his reflection. He had lost all of his baby-fat, but still seemed soft and plush, hairless, feminine somewhat, with his his big green eyes, full lips and curvy body. He turned around and peered at his rear; firm and round, the same way they were supposed to be in adult movies. He faced himself again, touched his mouth, his throat, let his hand glide down his chest, over his nipples. Pinched one of them and flinched, felt it harden under his fingers, saw the flush creeping up his face, imagined his brother. He reddened even more when his prick twitched at the image, and he jumped in the shower, setting the water as cold as he could stand.

After a few minutes, knowing he still had time before Sam woke up, Dean accepted that he needed to take care of his little problem, couldn’t deny himself for too long, even if it meant fanaticizing on his big brother . He had discovered that not so long ago, Jess had caught him right in this shower and had perfectly explained everything to him. Beside the part about his brother, though Dean suspected that she had known something was up. He was grateful he had had such a person in his life, so confident and comprehensive. Dean was convinced that Sam would’ve managed as well as her, would’ve been turned on if he had seen him in such a situation, the same way Dean was when soft moans were coming from Jess and Sam’s room. With a touch of jealousy, Dean touched himself, recalling these noises, mostly his big brother’s grunts, his large shoulders and tanned body.

His back against the cold tiles, head thrown back, soft puffs were escaping him, slowly becoming discreet moans, as he portrayed in his mind how Sam’s cock would look like, feel like, smell like; all swollen, ridged with veins, beautiful and long. Dean’s hand was moving faster on his own sex, white flashes appearing behind his closed lids, something tightening inside, gripping his guts, heart slamming in his ribcage, trembling and-

“Dean, if you don’t wanna be late you better come down!” Sam yelled from behind the door, interrupting Dean as something, something special was happening.

“Y-yeah, ‘kay, c-coming!” He answered back, getting out of the shower, almost sliding on the floor. Frustrated, dried himself off, being peculiarly careful with his now sore prick.

He ran to his room, changed himself as fast as he could; he had taken too much time in the bathroom and was almost late. He heard the garage’s door opening, meaning that Sam was already in the car waiting for him. Dean rushed to the kitchen, took an apple, rushed some more to the car and threw himself in the passenger sit, buckling his seatbelt in less than a second. Checked the hour on the dashboard: just in time.

“O-okay, s-sorry, we c-can go now” Dean tried to breath, his heart racing a mile a minute, he always had a hard time dealing with stress and tardiness. His chest was heaving, fast. Dean closed his eyes, rested his head on the back seat, trying to calm himself. When the car hadn’t started yet, Dean dared to look up at his brother who averted his gaze on the exact moment it crossed his. And he understood suddenly what sight he gave to his brother all flushed and exerted, panting like he had...

“Yeah, was just thinking if we forgot something” Sam stated, neutral, and turned the contact on.The grip he had on the steering wheel was iron clad, knuckles whitening, veins bulging out of his forearms.

The ride lasted twenty long minutes, the discomfort palpable. They both knew what it was about, obviously, but only Sam was still denying their attraction, still holding to the ideal he had of a perfect family. 

Dean sighed, leaned on the door and let his stare wander somewhere, anywhere but in the direction of his greatest failure. Who was Sam kidding? He knew the dam would break, Dean was planning on that; one of them had to take things in hands. But somehow, he feared that all the frustration Sam had stored inside, all the ignored feelings might get too much if he finally embraced them.

He got dropped off just in front of the school, as would any other parents do but Sam hadn’t even looked at him, had barely said goodbye, mumbled something about working late or something, that food was in the fridge and “here, money for the bus” and before he even finished his last sentence, the car was already moving.  
Dean stayed there, confused, disappointed, angry, staring at the blue blur that was his brother’s car. 

Dean got late in class, hadn’t heard the bell.

* * *

 

He had arrived home at 4pm, ate a little snack, watched TV, played some games on his computer, read, watched TV again and slept ‘til 9pm. Dean didn’t have many friends, had always felt a huge gap between him and the other kids.

Not so long ago, it hadn’t been a problem, he had had both Jess and Sam as company, his brother had been doting on him on every occasion, sometimes it even got too much. He hadn’t been shy, he had smiled and laughed at Dean’s poor attempts at jokes, had encouraged him to talk about his day at school, had played whenever Dean had begged him to, video games and sparring, never letting the controllers get cold or their clothes clean. Jess used to shake her head every time she saw them together, but little by little things changed and then she had left.

Dean waited on Sam to eat diner, still wouldn’t admit defeat. Wouldn’t give up on him, even if that meant that he would never have him the way he yearned for. Lying on the couch, gaze fixed on the ceiling, he dozed off, again.

He woke up when the lock made noise and he perched up the couch, watching Sam as he entered the hallway. He seemed agitated.

“Hey Sammy.”

“Hi.”

Sam strode to his room. That was odd, Dean thought and he slowly followed him, suspicious, and stagnated in the corridor. Arms crossed over his chest he asked “How was work today?” not so subtlety. Sam trode out of the room and almost stumbled on Dean, ignoring his previous question; he seemed annoyed. “Don’t stay in the way, Dean” Sam huffed, and shoved him aside to go in the kitchen. Dean’s eyebrows shot up as he glared at his brother and then suddenly, realization fell upon him: Sam wasn’t really annoyed, not the way someone would be after a shitty day at work, he was dodgy like he was hiding something. The fridge’s door was being opened.

“You haven’t eaten yet?” Sam called.

“Nah, ‘was waitin’ for you”

“You shouldn’t have” he said harshly.

Dean stepped in the kitchen, near his brother and contemplated his back, his ruffled hair, loose cravat. He was busily rummaging in a cupboard. Dean surreptitiously went behind him, mere inches, and waited for Sam to turn. And he did, facing his brother up front, surprised. “What the fuck Dean?” he nearly yelled, shocked.

Dean put his hand on Sam’s chest, and looked directly in his eyes. Dean’s head was tilted up and right, questioning, brow frowning, trying to understand the sudden embarrassment of his brother; ‘till then, he never explicitly expressed his unease towards their more-than-brothers kind of relationship, so what was up with being jumpy and all? And then, it hit him; the smell.

Dean took a step back, almost tripping on his own feet. Sam reeked of sex and cheap perfume. His lips were bitten, his hair greasy with sweat and he could see the few hickies under Sam’s white shirt. Dean’s eyes were as big as the one of a deer caught on the light. He felt nauseous.

“Listen Dean-”

“No, please don’t” he trembled. He refused to hear another word coming from his brother tonight, wouldn’t be able to deal with them. He was possessive, but when Sam had sex with Jess, it didn’t hurt that bad. He knew Jess and had always grown up like that, it was a fact, nothing new. But, this- this other woman, who was she? A coworker, a prostitute, some clerk in a random shop? Dean had no idea who Sam decided to have instead of him. And Sam tried to hide it, hide his betrayal because he knew, deep down, that it was one. 

Sam wasn’t even looking at Dean, had shut up the moment he was asked to.

They stood like that for a few minutes, none of them wanting to break the corrupted spell. Eventually, Dean walked out of the kitchen and managed to flap in the bed. As if knocked out, he fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

 

They didn’t speak at all for one week. Sam hadn’t come back from work late anymore. He tried to talk to Dean, tried to tell him that they had to get over their issues and live a normal life. Dean knew that, knew his brother like the back of his hand, but still, with big gooey eyes he always managed to shut Sam’s mouth. Threw some sad look toward him, lopsided smile plastered on his face, cheeks red from the few tears he dared to shed when his brother was near. Dean wasn’t oblivious; he was aware that it was torture for Sam to be the one to make his baby brother suffer so much, but as Dean loudly sniffed when Sam came to the living room, he bitterly thought that he deserved to be reminded every single day of his betrayal, deserved to bare his guiltiness, even if he had never promised anything to Dean.

When Sam popped into a room, Dean left it, when Sam was going to say something, Dean put on his earphones. He realized that this little game couldn’t go on for ever, and there was only one thing left to do: break Sam. Break Sam’s righteousness, his will, make him admit that he wanted Dean’s cherry pie the same way that Dean wanted his thirty-six-year-old-brother to mark him up good.

He went in his room, flopped in his bed and read for some times; the occasion would come by itself.

* * *

 

A few days later, Dean’s eyes opened on the alarm clock, at 01:34 am. Still deep into the numbness of sleep, Dean rolled out of bed and made his way outside his room to get himself a glass of water. In the hallway, he saw the moving lights of the TV, heard it’s muted sound. Sleepily, he went in the living room to shut it off when he realized Sam had fallen asleep on the couch. All his senses lightened up. He was still sitting, though his head was laying on the backseat, knees invitingly spread wide, muscles completely relaxed. Dean roamed his brother’s body with his eyes, savoring this brief moment of freedom and then, he caught sight of it, this big bulge inside Sam’s pants. And oh god, Dean nearly whined. He took some more time, looking at it, imagining the flesh underneath and without even realizing what he was doing, he got down on his knees, settled between his brother’s legs and started to peel the layers of clothing covering his most wanted desire.

Softly, gently, without any hurry, always aware of Sam’s mere movements, Dean opened Sam’s pants and took his gorgeous cock out of his boxers through the seam made for this exact use.

It was warm, smoothly dry, bigger than he had expected. He stared at it, fascinated by all the details he had imagined but weren’t there or by the fact that he could feel its discreet pulse in his hand. The head was glistening with precome, a pearl already forming on the tip, and Dean didn’t have the patience anymore. Aiming for the slit, he licked it with the flat of his tongue relishing the bitter taste of it or its soft texture.

Still in a haze, he took his brother’s cock in his mouth, careful with the teeth, tenderly as not to wake him up. Dean loved the sensation, the heaviness of his shaft in his mouth, its heat, loved feeling the precome leaking drop by drop on his tongue, could come from having his mouth so... so stuffed full of Sam.

He lowered himself on Sam’s girth, tried to go as deep as he could which wasn’t too far since he was practicing that for the first time in his young life. Maybe, that also had something to do with his mouth, to small to fit so much of his brother. But Dean didn’t care, he’d choke on him if that meant he’d get to do that more often.

Dean closed his eyes while he bobbed up and down Sam’s dick, sensed it swelling on his tongue, sensed every veins running on it, hummed around it with a little smile.

His head was roughly yanked back by the hair and before he could register what was happening a huge hand slapped him hard.

Flabbergasted, he stayed still, cock still in hand, lips parted, face turned right, didn’t dare to move, just his eyes searching for the known origin of the slap.

Sam was heaving, his breath short and ragged, cheeks red with arousal but his eyes so huge and scared and confused, he looked like he’d seen a ghost. He tightened his grip on Dean’s hair, maybe fearing him to leave. Sam had never hit Dean, and it hurt, broke something inside that wasn’t his heart.

The plan, Dean had thought, was to get Sam and himself off, without waking him up, go back the way he had came and he wouldn’t have known anything. No harm no fool. But obviously, getting caught and slapped kind of ruined everything. Even if Dean did get back to his room without finishing his brother, they would still know, and their situation might worsen. Dean stared back at his brother, right in the white of his eyes and as a last gesture of defiance against everything Sam had fought for, a big “fuck you”, Dean pulled his tongue out and licked one long strip just under the head with the flat of his tongue.

Sam released him, nearly pushed him and was getting up when Dean came full force on his brother, pushing him back in the couch, holding his hands down on the seat, slithering closer to him between his legs, standing on his knees, mouth on Sam’s neck, pinning him not with the weight of his body but the one of his desire, whispering, hushing him, trying to calm the war that was his brother at this exact moment. “Please, please” he said against his soft neck, “Sammy, let me,” but he still felt his reluctance, still felt him on the verge of bolting. “Sammy, Daddy please.” At those words, Sam stiffened, noisily swallowed and rested back on the couch, the fight leaving him. He had hit where Sam was the weakest it seemed.

Dean sighed in relief. Slowly sitting back on his heels, he directly went for the prize in front of him, eager to help Sam resolve his inner conflict by giving the right answer, the one only him could give.

Sam was worriedly watching, biting his lips, barely breathing, hands plastered on the couch, didn’t dare to touch. Dean, on the other hand, was showing how he enjoyed the hard weight in his mouth, softly moaned from time to time, stared at his brother with teary eyes, tried to smile as well as he could.

Sam’s hips bucked even if he tried to restrain himself, Dean heard his head thump on the couch’s back, his breathing getting labored, felt the pumping in his cock get faster, the swelling. He popped it out of his mouth and moved his hand up and down the shaft, tightening it on the tip, giving it a twist every few times. His bruised cheek brushed against its head. Dean’s eyes weren’t leaving Sam’s face and he was a wreck. His hair sticking to his brow, all flushed, on the verge of crying, he looked like it hurt him to have Dean between his legs. Sam wanted to say something but Dean knew his words were stuck in his throat, completely stupefied.

Now, rubbing his face against his big brother’s length and humping his own hand, Dean mouthed silently “I love it Sammy” and Sam’s hands clench against the hard leather of the couch. Just a few more pushes and Dean would make Sam surrender. “Please, Daddy”.

A curse, a hand suddenly grasping his hair and warm sticky come stained his freckled skin. It splattered on the bridge of his nose, on his eyelid, his brow, his mouth. An obscene moan escaped Dean’s lips.

Sam was trembling, cursing through his teeth, hand back to himself, one on his forehead, one on his knee. “shit shit shit shit”. When the come on Dean’s face got cold, Sam’s gaze fell upon him, was ready to say something, to dismiss everything that had happened, but Dean promptly took Sam’s hand in his, surprising his brother and shutting him up at the same time. He had to make a point and with that thought in head, Dean rubbed his come-stained face on Sam’s hand and made a show of eating it right in. “Oh fuck” Sam whined. He tongued between the fingers, sucked them, licked his palm with the dirtiest noises, wrecking Sam a little more. No one could love that the way Dean did. “Oh go-Oh my god, Dean”.

After he cleaned both Sam and himself good, Dean got up and straddled Sam’s thighs, getting close enough to kiss him.

Unexpectedly, Sam yanked Dean’s head toward him and smashed their lips together, forced his tongue in, explored every confinement of his mouth, bit his lower lip, scratched his nails on Dean’s scalp, almost hurting. And it was so good, feeling Sam finally letting himself go, letting himself desire Dean the way he always wanted to do. Dean whimpered when Sam’s hand started to rub on his crotch. “S-Sam”.

“A-are you even for real?” he asked and Dean couldn’t help himself but to blush, ashamed somehow to have come with barely any stimulation. Sam seemed pleased.

Dean wanted to stay on the couch with him, to get marked, to get to be Sam’s, but his brother cut him off in his musings. “Go to bed, it’s late”.

His expression was unreadable, but after years of living under the same roof, Dean understood what it meant, that Sam, even if he accepted the idea of sexual intercourses with his little brother, was still searching the correct approach of the situation. Dean trusted Sam on this matter and went to his room, satisfied.

* * *

 

The next day, Sam acted as if nothing happened. Woke Dean up for school, prepared a breakfast and now he was casually reading the journal, lying on the counter, mug of coffee in hand, making a point in looking adult and responsible. Dean was not impressed.

“You liked it?” Dean dismissively said between two spoons of cereal. Sam put down his journal and looked in his direction, the embarrassment clearly visible by the way he was avoiding his eyes. Dean stood up and walked to his brother and stood up in front of him, cornering him. Physically talking, Sam could shove Dean, or anyone actually but Dean’s eyes were fierce and cold and pinned Sam where he was. Still, Sam tried to back up, almost ended up hopping on the kitchen counter. Dean was stoic.

“You loved it.” he claimed, unbuckling Sam’s pants, letting it slide down these miles long legs. His big brother’s breath hitched, threw his head back, trying not to watch what would happen just before they go to school. Dean knew he was weakened enough to bring in the final strike.

Dean dropped to his knees and pulled down Sam’s boxers, reveling his already semi-hard cock. He was such a sensitive guy, so sweet and soft, everything was enough to turn him on, but Dean wanted to see the glimpse he had had of his brother last night, all savage and aggressive.

“I love your cock Sammy”, Sam shivered and Dean smiled. Heard the gasp as he started the bathe the dick in front of him with kitten licks, focusing on the head were the precome was dripping. “love it” he whispered, popping the head in. A choked sound came from above, he looked up and Sam was watching him now, all wonder and astoundment. Dean guessed that the reassuring words were a bit responsible for that; he took note of that.

Gently, he let his left hand travel, down the shaft to Sam’s firm and full balls. He caressed them, rolled them, even left the head to suck them. Sam hissed. Slurping sounds came from his mouth, obscene, but turning on Sam even more if he took the sudden trembling of his brother as a sign. After a few minutes, he went again for the cock, tried to swallow it down, ended up choking on it, tears in his eyes and frustration in his throat.

Sam’s hands suddenly cradled his head, thumb rubbing his bruised side, his plush lips “T-take a deep breath first, a-and try to relax” he mumbled, barely voiceless, expression on his face looking as if someone was tearing something apart from him.

Dean listened to his brother, tamed his eagerness a bit, and did as he was told several times. The first few tries were good, but not good enough to Dean who wanted to take Sam all the way down his throat. Even with that in mind, it didn’t lessen the pleasure it brought him to listen to the grunts coming from Sam.

At least, when Dean deemed himself ready, he said loud and clear “Fuck my throat” and he went all the way down, nose buried in his brother’s crotch, spit steadily leaking on his chin and stayed right there, unmoving, waiting. Sam whimpered, tensed, gripped Dean’s hair even harder and he could only hum in acceptance. Then, with a shaky breath, Sam started to move slowly, gently, with shallow thrusts first, still holding Dean’s head in place, “Jesus”. Dean swallowed around his cock, showing him that it was alright, that he could relax and go for it, that he’d take it, that he craved it. Another curse and Sam’s thrusts became harsher, faster, went all the way out to just push back deep inside, ramming his mouth, his throat, his palate, loosing all the restraints he had put on himself, now moving Dean’s face in rhythm with his thrusts, making Dean’s jaw ache, tears rolling down his cheeks.

He loved it, loved the way Sam just unraveled his inner aggressivity, shoving the frustration of so many years down inside, using Dean the way they both yearned for. Dean shimmied away from Sam, hands back on Sam’s cock, watching him “T-tell me Sammy, tell me how you like it” he smiled and went back in business again. Sam moaned.

“You’re so tight!” he slammed hard inside. “C-Can’t believe,” and he did it again, “that you let me,” and his hand moved down his neck, “use you like that” tightened it enough to feel the bulge of Sam’s cock moving in a steady pace inside his throat. He gripped harder, Dean couldn’t breath correctly anymore but the roughness made him feel owed, made him feel Sam all over. With one final shove Sam hurriedly panted “G-god you’re such a slut” and Dean closed his eyes as warm come flooded his insides, deep and soothing, filling him good.

They didn’t move until Sam’s cock softened in Dean’s mouth and let it slowly slip out. He stood up, closed the few centimeters that were separating him from his brother. Standing on the tip of his toes, he nuzzled the base of Sam’s neck, took one of his hands in his and led it inside his pants. There, Dean’s briefs were soaked with come couldn’t help himself, got so turned on by his brother, this man towering him, owning him. Sam gasped as he felt the stickiness, knew Dean didn’t touched himself for one second. “’m your slut Sammy” he kissed and then went back to the kitchen table, grabbed an apple and walked to the door. “Hurry up, we’re gonna be late” he smiled, smug and satisfied. None of them had time to let Dean change himself, but somehow, Dean liked to keep the filth Sam made him feel.

A few beats later, Sam sighed and followed Dean outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this chapter, hope everything went alright! If you wanna pay me a visit: [tumblr](http://www.onlyherefortheslash.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Next chapter will come, not too soon nor too late!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo. I kinda took my time, I hope it's for the best. Thank you for your patience. I'm gonna be honest, the story took a turn I wasn't expecting, but I'm happy with. 
> 
> Also, things got a bit rougher, wasn't my intention but hey, I think it's alright..? I added some other warnings, read them! :o
> 
> Not beta'd, every mistakes are my own (god there must be so many D:). So yeah, if your eyes start bleeding, just tell me.
> 
> Btw, merry Christmas and a happy new year to you guys! Wish you all the luck for 2015!
> 
> PS: Concrits are welcome! (unless they're not written respectfully, don't be mean please).

Even with all the consent given, what they did still wasn’t right, socially speaking; they both had issues, they both should’ve sought help, but when you had your big brother’s seed spilled all over your flushed face and swollen lips, it was a little too late for that. But that was okay, because they still had some sort of order in their messed up lives.

Sam still needed to be nudged and pushed by Dean to let himself go rough, needed some implicit permission to desire his little brother in all the ways he shouldn’t, to forgive himself for what he had failed to built with Jess and Dean. But everything was the way it should be. Somehow.

The first time Dean had slept in Sam’s bedroom, Dean knew his brother had been tensed, remorseful. They had yet broken another limit, crossed another line that anchored them even deeper in their “relationship”. Dean had filled the void Jess had left behind her, and even with Sam looking less and less desperate since they both had made peace with whatever there was between them, his brother still had difficulties with having any kind of sexual activities in his bedroom. It was, after all, the final step for Dean to completely replace Jess, and somehow, he was alright with that, as long as they could have whatever they both needed so badly.

* * *

 

Dean woke up in Sam’s arms, the same way he had been doing for a month at least. It was dark outside, gray clouds ready to burst in lightnings and heavy rain obscuring the blue sky behind. Sam had insisted to go on a hike today “ _you’re young, you need to exercise Dean!_ ” he’d said, throwing his hands around and nodding with conviction as if this simple gesture would influence Dean’s answer. Guess it had. Even if he hadn’t been thrilled by this idea, he thought that Sam would’ve felt better with himself and whatever they shared if they spent a little more time together outside of the house where every room was a tribute to some unresolved sexual tension; but as it seemed, they would certainly end up watching a movie, eat and laze on the couch.

Dean shifted, pushing his back against his brother’s chest, enjoying his heavy breathing on his neck, the beating of his heart and the hard line resting on the bottom of his back. He didn’t want to wake Sam up; he hadn’t been responsive to Dean’s advances since he’d started sleeping in Sam’s bedroom. He was fidgety, tired most of the time, pretty much the same way he had been before they had officially settled things between them.

He understood. Sam had needed some time to come to peace with this new body next to his. Behind his broad shoulders, squared jaw and strong arms was a sensitive man with a broken heart and a lost lover, and Dean could only sympathize with him and give him some time to adapt.

Huffing, Dean wondered about how easily their relationship evolved. Till then, he had always seen Sam as a figure of authority, the one to chose, to decide the right path to follow; a blowjob was enough to ruin everything Sam had symbolized, as well as his role as a father.

Dean closed his eyes, not ready yet to wake up. As he was drifting out, he heard a grunt and Sam shook him awake. Well, tried to. Seeing his efforts were in vain, he left the bed and went to shower.

It was like that between them: no behavior that could be really translated to the love a couple could share. They never kissed unless it was before, during or after any kind of sexual affection. Lovers kissed, spouses kissed, curious teenagers kissed. They were none of that; they weren’t in love. At least not the way Sam had been in love with Jessica and, as a matter of fact, still _was_.

Dean didn’t fool himself; their bond, it wasn’t monochromatic, one definition couldn’t be enough to describe it. Of course they loved each other, as a family, but whatever they had wasn’t about that. It was about belonging and claiming. It was about having some control on your shredded family. They needed that. Sam after their parents’ death, after Jess had left. Dean, well, he had always wanted something for himself, Sam was perfect for the role, since he was his only real relative, his father and brother; his origins, protector and caretaker.

Sam got out of the shower with a towel hanging on his hips and searched for clean clothes around the room. Dean had opened his eyes a few minutes before, and they were now following each of his brother’s movements. He seemed buried in his thoughts -maybe wondering about the awful weather and their plans- and Dean thought it was just the right time to tease his brother. There was nothing as satisfying as seeing Sam’s resolve melt because of Dean.

With a soft moan, Dean threw the blanket on the other side of the bed and stretched from toes to fingers, making sure to twist around and show as much skin as he could. He was wearing a simple blue T-shirt and a pair of white boxers, and stretched out like he was, the hem of his top was riding just above the navel. Dean smiled, internally, because he knew he had caught his brother’s attention when no sound came from his direction. Dean threw one arm on his face, and with a hidden gaze, he glanced at Sam, checking how he was reacting. From the way he was staring, dumbfounded and fidgety, he certainly gave away quite easily what was going on in his mind.

“C’mon Sammy, come back in bed.” he sultrily complained. The silence he was met with gave him even further permission to _make_ Sam come beside him. Dean propped himself on his elbows, and watched his brother get more and more distracted by his tiny body lost on the huge mattress. The towel had slipped, revealing the beautiful shaft previously hidden. His eyes were racking Sam’s body, taking notice of every little detail that showed how his brother was affected by Dean’s display of arousal, by the wet patch already forming on the front of his white briefs. Dean invitingly spread his legs, beat his bottom lip. Lying down fully on the bed again, he whispered: “Wanna feel your here” and gave a slow and explicit roll of hips.

He heard a whimper. Dean got off on that, the power he had over his brother, that he could make him flustered and bothered even if Sam could easily pin him down and have his way however he wanted. Loved the fact that it made him feel like he _owned_ this giant of a man.

Sam was still starring, his cock twitching and hardening as the teenager dragged his hands between his opened legs, inside his boxers, played with himself, poked at his slit, spreading the precome over his engorged sex. Dean was breathing deeply in the pillow, his face was red with excitement, head turned on the left, lifting cloudy eyes to his spectator, sinful lips stretching in a hungry grin. Then one of his hands left his crotch to slither on his chest and settle over one of his soft pink nipples. With his index, he slowly started to circle it, caress it, making himself gasp and jerk. He heard a huge sigh, a tensed one and Dean knew Sam was going to give up soon. But as mischievous as Dean was, he furrowed his brow, taking an almost hurt expression as he quietly murmured “ _Need you, Daddy!_ ”, pleas and encouragements just to toy with Sam’s desperate need to satisfy and care for the deprived little thing that Dean seemed to be in this exact moment.

The bed creaked when Sam gently knelt on the bed, hovering over Dean, but still hesitant on taking what was offered to him, or _forced_ to accept. Gingerly, he shimmied between his little brother’s thighs, bending forward until his elbows framed his face. Dean put his tiny hands on his shoulders, caressing them with the tip of his fingers, making the body on top of him shiver. Gripping his brother to get some leverage, he slid his bottom ‘til he was sitting on Sam’s laps, now both of them upright. Still holding on solid shoulders, Dean crossed his ankles on Sam’s back, digging his heels in it. Strong and muscled arms came to surround him, showing how small he was, how weak he should’ve been. Burrowing his face in the crook of Sam’s neck, he started to grind himself on Sam.

Dean quivered, his brother’s cock dragging and leaking on his own ruined briefs pushing him on the edge almost instantly. It had been so long since Dean had smelled Sam’s sweat, felt Sam’s body, his frantic breath on his hair. Dean loved to control but the sheer pleasure of being completely wrapped and surrounded by a man, surrounded by Sam reeking of arousal and restrained domination was something he’d never have enough of.

Sam’s hands slid from his ribs to his hips, pushing down on them, aching for the warmth to surround his naked cock better, thirsty for a harsher contact. They rutted against each other, Sam keeping his grunts to himself, Dean moaning with no shame. His movements got more and more frenzied, almost on the verge of release, but Dean wanted Sam to get there with as much pleasure as possible. He stuck his tongue out and licked and bit Sam’s lobe, tearing a whine from him and a sharp buck of hips, dragged his nails on that tanned and toned back, pushing groans that vibrated through his chest. Marking and owning. But the final _coup de grâce_ always came with filthy words whispered right in the shell of his ear. “U-uh, Sammy, l-love your big fat cock, h-ha! Wish it-”, taking Sam’s face in his hands, and crashing his mouth on his, he mewled against it “Wish it could f-fill me up inside”. A loud moan resonated on his mouth, a shudder shook his body; felt Sam’s arms tightening hard, his broken moan, Sam’s come seeping on his own boxers and Dean’s orgasm hit him, his heart beating as fast as Sam’s. Both panting, and still twitching, they laid back in bed and let sleep take over their tired bodies.

* * *

 

When Dean opened his eyes for the second time this day, the clock indicated an alarmingly late hour and the place beside him in bed was cold as if no one had ever slept there. Lazily, he got up, took his shower, brushed whatever needed to be brushed, put on something warm and cozy and went to the living room where Sam was certainly watching a boring documentary.

The corridor and generally the house were eerily silent, no smell coming from the kitchen no noise blaring from the radio or the TV. The only disturbance that came and broke this fragile wall of stillness was an aborted sob. Feeling like an electric shock had gone through him, Dean warily dragged his feet to the kitchen, dreading what he might discover there. Just before he could see what was inside, he took a deep breath and counted to three.

Sam was standing near the fridge, irritated eyelids, bitten off lips. Two trembling hazel orbs then lifted to Dean’s, despair coupled with guilt all too visible and Dean understood the caustic irony when his gaze fell upon the phone on the kitchen’s table. The same room that had witnessed the embodiment of his hopes was now the holder of his cruelest disappointment.

“Jess’s coming back.”

Dean nodded, struck in stupor.

“In a few hours, Dean, she- she’s gonna be back this afternoon.”

Even drowning in confusion and self-loathing, even with a voice that, to anybody else, sounded tamed and nonchalant, Dean perceived the small hint of joy his brother tried to hide not so well. And Sam suddenly understood his mistake when Dean leaned on the wall behind him and closed his eyes.

After five _fucking_ months, Dean thought. After letting his brother rot from heartbreak, this- she decided to repent from her abandon and come and ruin everything he had worked for? Dean trembled; fury for something he had already lost coursing through his veins, nostalgia for something he had never had drowning him inside.

He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop the tears from dropping, from his lip to twist in dolor, from his hitched breath to be so pathetic. The battlefield in his head was a massacre of confused emotions; couldn’t conciliate the relief of knowing that Sam was going to be _really_ okay again, the frustration of losing his claim, the happiness of seeing his surrogate mother again and the deep hatred he felt for her on the same instant.

Hesitant steps came to him. Sam hadn’t even touched him yet that Dean threw his arms around his brother’s neck and fretfully bit and kissed his lips. Dean felt everything slip from his fingers, everything melt around him. Before he gave up on what he had never been truly offered, Dean wanted to enjoy it one last time.

And for once, the hands tightening around his hips and sliding downward to squeeze his cheeks to the point of bruising gave him the full satisfaction of knowing that what would happen would be done in total abandon of the rules.  
Sam teared his face from Dean’s and started to lick and suck every bit of sensitive flesh on his little brother’s neck while he deftly pulled down Dean’s pants and boxers in one go. Sam lowered himself until he sat on his heels, roaming his palms and mouth everywhere on the keening boy trapped under his administrations.

Dean was paralyzed with arousal. Having Sam so spontaneously give up all his restrain to take and break everything Dean had left was the most erotic and thrilling act he’d ever witnessed. His only form of communication was staggered words and breathy whimpers. It wrecked him, the way Sam’s teeth scratched on his nipples, the way he twisted one while the other was sucked hard in his mouth, the tickle, the shiver, the sweat and the precome. He was as wet as a girl, his little prick shocked with every swap of his brother’s tongue, every second his nails were marking him. His muted voice so strained it felt like he had screamed for hours.

Dean was roughly turned around, Sam’s left hand on his middle pinning him on the cold wall while the other grabbed one of his cheek and pulled it to expose Dean’s privacy. Nothing happened for a good minute. Dean almost got scared, thought Sam had left, but his heavy breathing was still burning his back side and he relaxed, waiting for his brother to move.

Even if he expected what would happen, he still whined when Sam’s tongue caressed his intimacy, softly, slowly, still shuddered as every drag of it resonated inside him. Dean had put his forehead and arms on the wall to help himself get some equilibrium. His knees were barely able to hold him.

Sam spread his cheek even further, intensifying the wet touch. It was maddening, Sam’s tongue pulling on his rim, circling it, pushing in only to retreat back, his thumb deliberately rubbing leisurely on him, delicately teasing. His moans vibrated though him, made him even wetter to know that the only and last time was the best thing he could ever get from and give Sam.

“Dean, can I?” Sam panted on his skin, desperate, lips trembling in anticipation, fingers tightening ‘till his cheeks hurt. Dean moaned in frustration when he couldn’t feel his big brother’s tongue on him, but the promise of something more made him shiver, and he nodded francticly, letting Sam do anything he wanted. He sensed a tentative index probing him, caressing him gently, but his insides still were empty.

“Dean, say it, _please_ say it” Sam pleaded.

“Yes, anything Sammy.” Then the finger hesitantly pushed inside, stretching his virgin hole, saliva the only thing easing the way. Dean took a deep breath, bearing the burn, enjoying it, hoping he’d be sore for the next few days. But Sam didn’t let him get used to the intrusion, hurriedly forced another finger right beside the other one, taking everything he could as soon as possible, licking around them, trying to soothe Dean’s most intimate pain.

His breath was coming short as Sam pumped inside, rubbed his channel raw and rough, made him ache with fullness. The pleasure was scorching, and Sam was worse, but he loved to feel him unravel, had been gagging to be claimed this way, and yet he wasn’t completely satisfied, not until his brother was buried in him, even if he had to cry so much it would hurt.

Dean twisted himself a bit and grasped Sam’s hand, stopping him in his exploration. Sam pulled out his fingers surprisingly gently and stood up. Dean turned himself fully and looked up at his brother. The man was definitely towering him and the way Sam kept all his strength under control no to lash on him right away, the way his eyes roamed over his naked body, hungry, feral, with a bulge in his pants obscenely wide, Dean felt extremely young, small and weak. Ironically, only one word from him could wreck Sam for weeks. This thought comforted him.

“Take off your shirt”, Dean demanded. When Sam’s torso was uncovered, Dean let his trembling hands trail over the body presented to him and settled them down on the strained fabric. Taking a deep breath, he opened the fly and took out Sam’s heavy cock in his hands, never leaving his sight from his brother’s anxious face. Dean spat a big dollop of saliva in his free hand and started to stroke Sam’s shaft with both of them, coating it as well as possible to make the penetration easier. Time seemed to have slowed down. Every moves and breaths were tamed somehow, the two of them dreading and anticipating the raw expression of their despair. Creases formed on Sam’s brow, his eyes were shut tight, still waiting for Dean’s permission to unleash his want.

Dean brought one of his arms around Sam’s shoulders, making him bend despite him already being on the tip of his toes. Their mouths were barely separated by millimeters, and they stayed this way, their heavy breathing the only sound disrupting the still room. After what felt like hours, Dean tightened his grip on his brother, bringing his other arm around his neck and pulled himself up until Sam’s hands were cupping his cheeks, completely wrapped up around him.

“Fuck me Sammy.”

His sentence wasn’t even finished when Sam slammed him hard against the cold wall of their kitchen. Dean tried to relax himself, knew it would hurt like nothing else had and at the first rub of Sam’s cock on his entrance, he locked his legs around his big brother’s waist and burrowed his face in his chest, too small to reach his neck.

Sam slowly pushed Dean’s hips down on his cock with both hands; even with spit easing the way, they could still feel how the hard length _dragged_ painfully inside Dean’s channel. It took so long, when Sam finally bottomed out, Dean started to sob quietly. He couldn’t help himself, he didn’t regret anything, but it burned so _bad_.

“God you’re so _tight!_ ” Sam whined, unmoving, waiting for his little brother to get used to him, “Dean, let me... Let me, Dean, _please!_ ”

Dean took in a shuddering beath, making his sobbing stop. Still hiding in Sam’s chest, he nodded his consent. Sam pulled almost all the way out and shoved in instantly, too hard, too fast and didn’t let his pace falter. Dean cried out and tightened his grip on Sam’s shoulders. He loved it, loved every seconds he felt him ram and hurt his insides, jolting his hips down on his cock, driving it deeper and deeper. The thrusts were quick, sharp, blazing hot and heavenly in the way they claimed ownership.

Sam was completely silent in his roughness, only his harsh breathing indicating the sheer force he put in each snap forward. Dean, on the other hand, moaned, mewled and cried almost constantly, sometimes stopping himself to scream filth at his brother, to beg for his come, to bite the flesh in front of him.

“I-I’m a whore for your cock!”

“Harder Dad!”

“Nngh, f-feel so _stuffed_!”

And Sam was a real wreck, couldn’t believe such words were coming out of these sweet plush lips, couldn’t wrap his mind over his kid being as dirty as he was. He lowered his face and kissed the offending mouth, licking it and let his rhythm subside to a short and soft rocking, giving himself and the tiny body in his arms some sort of respite.

Dean was glad that things calmed down, letting him take his breath even with Sam’s girth deeply buried in his insides. His throat was raw he screamed so much; he contemplated the fact that he wouldn’t be able to talk the next few days. He closed his eyes, and enjoyed how his body gently swayed with each of Sam’s thrust, how his tongue lustfully explored his slack mouth. His flesh still hurt, stretched too wide around Sam, raw from his lack of gentleness. He thought his brother intended to come this way when Sam hit _the_ spot inside and Dean’s back arched.

“ _Yes!_ Right there, right there!”, he whimpered. And the pounding renewed, this time pressing and hitting every single time his prostate, Dean’s eyes wide open, looking down almost with bewilderment at the place where Sam’s dick plunged over and over again. His prick was steadily dripping precome, each slam at his sweet spot making another sticky drop leak on his belly.

With a hand on Sam’s chest, Dean told him to stop. Still buried to the hilt, Sam gazed nervously at his little brother, suddenly realizing how rough he let himself be with him. But before he had time to express his concern Dean cut him off by bringing one of his hand on his pelvis and pushing down harshly on the slight bump there.

“ _Dean!_ ”, Sam groaned, unable to stop himself from canting his hips. The sight Dean was right at this moment was exhilarating, teary eyes and trembling grin, flushed from extreme arousal, freckles standing out on his red skin, covered with goosebumps. Dean leaned on the wall behind him, lifted Sam’s left hand from his bottom and pressed its heel against the bulge.

“Feel it Sammy? Your c-cock’s so _big_ I-I can’t even h-hold it all inside”, he moaned, “So _full_ , w-wanna be dripping with your come.”

That was enough to make Sam lose the last of the control he had left. Pulling out roughly, he nearly threw Dean on the ground, pinned him on his back with one hand and spreading Dean’s right thigh with the other, he breached Dean’s puffy hole again, and went at it so violently, he knew Dean would have rug burns the next day.

Dean tried to jerk himself off, but Sam batted his hands away with a grunt, slammed even harder in his little brother’s abused body.

“I-I want you to beg” Sam whispered, shyly.

He fucked right into Dean’s sweet spot, again and again. Tears rolled down Dean’s cheeks, everything was just too much, shook every time flesh slapped on flesh, every nerves on and inside his skin burning and hurting he was so close to completion.

“No, _no!_ Let me come!”

“I-I can’t-”, Dean mewled.

“I’ll let you u-use me, _a-ahh!_ ”

“ _Please, please, please!_ ”, he cried.

Sam finally took Dean’s prick in his hand, gently rubbing his thumb on the underside of it.

“Tell me you l-love my cock.”

“Love it Sam!”

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“Always, always, Sam _please!_ ”

“Tell me you’ll never leave.” Sam begged.

“Never! Never!”

Sam suddenly stilled, choked out a sob and then Dean sensed warm sticky come flood his insides, felt it ooze as his brother continued to thrust. Wide eyes staring at Sam, Dean came with a whimper, felt his hole squeeze his brother _tight_ , trembled and cried with relief, relishing in the comfort of his brother's seed filling him.

* * *

 

They stayed like this a certain amount of time, neither knowing how much. Their bodies couldn’t move, their minds refused to separate themselves, wanted to enjoy as long as possible what they had just have, their heads clouded by their connection.

And then, reality kicked right in with the sound of hurried steps and the roaring of a luggage being dragged on the wooden floor. Caught in their sin, Jessica reappeared in their lives, standing in the kitchen’s entrance, stunned. No one dared to move or speak, Sam and Dean pinned by the weight of her gaze, unable to cover the smell, the sweat or the come.

Dean knew Sam was a wreck inside, his last chance at happiness destroyed by his inherent _want_ for something wicked.

And Jess, she was clutching the handle of her bag, thousands of thoughts and emotions going through her mind, unreadable from outside. Somehow, she broke from her stupor and took a deep breath; her mouth looked like a lopsided smile, her eyes reflected something near comprehension. Straightening herself, she threw a look to the door.

“I... I’m gonna go unpack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope everything went alright! Again, happy everything on these cold days of Winter! (or hot days of Summer, y'know, if you're on the other hemisphere)
> 
> If you wanna say hi, I also have [tumblr](http://www.onlyherefortheslash.tumblr.com)!
> 
> See you around~


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